Tag Archives: Men I Love

But real love — TRUE love — is when you find a 20-year-old photo of your loved one, realize you cannot get it out of the frame as some sort of wetness has sealed it in, take a photo of it with your cell phone, and then post it on the internet to celebrate their birthday.

Happy birthday Pookie Bear.

And I’m sure somewhere, in space, the light reflection from your Sally Jesse Raphael sized, circa 1991 glasses is still shooting through the atmosphere.

Anyone who spent a good portion of the 90’s watching Friends (or the time since then watching re-runs on TBS) knows three very specific things:

1 – Monica was way too skinny.

2 – “The Rachel” might as well have been a mullet — it seemed like a good idea at the time, but looking back, sweet Lordy what was that? And anyone with that haircut now is worthy of being pointed at and snickered about.

and

3 – One of the best concepts EVER was The List.

Now, I certainly don’t assume that Friends came up with this idea, only that they popularized it for my generation. The List is the five people you can cheat on your significant other with, without any consequences because of their stature on your list. There are a few rules, obviously. Mostly, the person has to be famous. I cannot exactly put the guy down the street on my list. Unless the guy down the street is totally famous and out of my league. Then — on the list he goes.

Over the years my version of The List has changed dramatically. But I think it’s fair time that I go ahead and create a new one. In the past, The List was always just a thought. But now it’s blog-worthy. On the internets for all to see. Which means it is like a contract. So Jimmy has to just accept it. I can be with these men if I have the opportunity. You are all my witnesses.

The List, 2011 edition:

#5 — Bill Kurtis

Oh, wipe that look of horror off your face.

Yes, Bill Kurtis.

Bill Kurtis is 70 years old. And his voice is as dreamy as ever. I got physically excited when he returned to Chicago news a couple of years back. That VOICE. Oh! I swear, he could say, “Marney, I am certain that you are about to be sliced up by a serial killer, a serial killer with a lust for moms and a desire to watch them suffer” and I would be like OH SWOON BILL KURTIS.

The only man to survive the cut from my original version of The List, the one I first made after that episode of Friends aired back in 1996. At that time, I was given the “eeewwweee” from my actual friends for picking a 56-year-old man. But I’m keeping him.

#4 — Johnny Galecki

I met Johnny Galecki once in a bar in Oak Park. And I was like “hey, you are totally famous, you are on Roseanne!” And he was like “no, dude…… giggle….. don’t say that.”

I don’t think either one of us was old enough to be in that bar. And silly drunk Johnny Galecki did not turn me on. But Leonard from Big Bang Theory totally does it for me.

#3 — Pacey Joshua Jackson

I’ll admit it, I was a Dawson girl. To this day, I am still pissed as hell that the show ended with Pacey and Joey together. Oh, and sorry I didn’t throw *spoiler alert* in there, but if you didn’t watch that episode by now, it’s doubtful that your VHS will fire up anyway to let you check the tape. PACEY gets the girl. DAWSON is alone. Even though the whole creek belonged to Dawson.

But then came Peter Bishop. And hum-a-nuh hum-a-nuh hum-a-nuh. All is forgiven Pacey. After all, if Dawson could see what you have to go through now, I’m sure he’d say, “I don’t want your life.”

*zing*

#2 — Jon Stewart

Does this really need an explanation?

#1 — Misha Collins

Holy crap am I ever in love with this guy.

He’s the one in the middle there. And as you can see, in order to be in love with this guy, it is necessary for me to be a 37-year-old woman who admits that her super favorite show is Supernatural. Which, you would think, would make me pick one of the two Winchester boys to be my #1. I mean, LOOK AT THEM. Holy hottness, huh?

But no. No no no no no. I like this guy in the middle. Castiel, the good angel gone rebel angel gone good angel gone fallen angel gone OH MY GOD ARE THEY GOING TO KILL HIM OFF NEXT SEASON NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

If I cared about Twitter, I would follow Misha Collins, because apparently he has quite a following.

Marney and Misha.

No one will know who is the boy and who is the girl.

And that, my friends, is how you make The List. I encourage you all to go make one of your own.

Hank had what I can only assume was a life-changing and defining moment this morning. One which he will discuss with future psychiatrists as he shudders and curls himself into the fetal position. One which will make his buddies laugh and his brother cringe.

Hank walked into my room unexpectedly today, as I exited from the shower.

Full. Frontal. Mom.

From his reaction, you would have thought he’d had a front row seat to the dropping of the atomic bomb. It went something like this:

Poor thing. The image of Mom’s double-D’s now seared into his brain for life.

1. Coffee. You are so delicious and wonderful and you help me both wake up AND poop. Thank you.

2. Summer. Sure, you are gone. But I love your heat and your humidity and the way you make cold beer taste even BETTER than it already does. Thank you.

3. Health. I mean, I feel like a fatty and I’m not as young as I used to be. But I am in pretty good shape (considering). And my parts all still work and I have more energy then I had back when I was a 24-year-old skinny smoker. Thank you.

4. Karaoke. Self-explanatory. Thank you.

5. The HappyPlace. No matter how often I go or what time of year it is, I feel a little empty and sad when I leave. There are only a few places in this world where I would love to be at any given moment, and the Happy Place is at the top of the list. Thank you.

7. Kayla & Nancy. More than just friends, they are the sisters I never had (even though I actually have three sisters). I feel pretty confident that if I needed them, they would hop on a plane as soon as humanly possible. Kayla is the second most generous person I know (very closely behind my mother) and for God’s sake, Nancy delivered her own child all by herself. My mother always told me how important it was to have girlfriends, and she was right. I am lucky to have the two of them, and distance and time don’t seem to make a difference. I don’t tell them enough how much I really love them. Thank you.

8. Family. Who else can know what a pain in the ass you are on a regular basis, but still invite you over for turkey and beer? Thank you.

9. Jim. That man makes me laugh. Thank you.

10. My boys. Nothing says that you have a good life better than two little boys who love each other so very much:

As a purchasing manager, Jim basically bargains for a living. When he tells me stories about work, two things happen: 1) I try desperately not to fall asleep (seriously, it’s purchasing) and 2) I flash to that scene from A Christmas Story, when Ralphie’s old man is bargaining with the Christmas tree salesman — “The old man loved bargaining as much as an Arab trader, and he was twice as shrewd!” That’s Jim. When I paid full price for a cheap, $10 handbag in the Bahamas, I thought he would divorce me on the spot. And once, a bubbly Jim who’d said okay to one too many cocktails at the hotel bar at the Holiday Inn still managed to utter the phrase “you can’t do any better than that?” to the late night check-in clerk, who I’m sure loved finding rooms for drunken holiday party-goers.

Anyway, in the ongoing installment of nature versus nurture, today’s lesson is bargaining, and here’s how Hank did:

Hank, through tears: I’m sooo sooo soooo sooo sorry.

Me: Well, you’re paying for new ones.

Hank: How much?

Me (taking three $5 bills from his wallet): $12.

Hank: Can I have the change?

Me: NO!

Hank: Why?

Me: Because you kicked your shoe into the pond.

That’s what we get for moving into a house on the water, limited water as it is. Also, it appears nurture wins again.

For the third time in 18 months (only two of those times on purpose), we saw Kansas. It wasn’t quite like the last time, when I was practically chased into the street by a gaggle of women who inexplicably kept calling me Mary Kate. But it was still fairly awesome. I offer as proof:

This might seem like a grainy cell phone photo. And it is. But it is also an accurate depiction of how I saw much of the show -- with a bright, flashing strobe light directly in my eyeballs, threatening to literally burn me to dust (in the wind, of course). Still, I hoped that maybe the light would illuminate me to the point that the band would spot me, and I'd have my very own Courtney Cox moment as I was pulled onto the stage to step-tap step-tap and strut my stuff until I reached the point of "know" return. No dice.

Occasionally, I could see the band.

That's right, lead singer Steve Walsh (center) topped his ever-growing skullet (BALD in front, party in the back) with his fanciest baseball cap for the occasion. And I really want to know why Richard Williams (left) wears an eye patch, but that's just rude to shout out. And violin boy Dave Ragsdale (right), well, he's old. But his arms are freaking awesome. That, and wikipedia tells me that he has performed with the likes of Queensryche and Louise Mandrell, and with a resume like that, what's not to like?

Don’t be impressed… I had to look up all their names. I’m sure that the king of geekdom Jim who I married already knew them. But I had to look them up.

This show was a little different. For starters, it was at the Arcada in St. Charles, Illinois. And the Arcada in St. Charles, Illinois is a bit of dump. Small, tiny bathrooms, probably chocked full of asbestos and a gang of terrifying ghosts in the balcony. You can still kind of smell the days when there was a smoking section.

Many of my favorite moments involved a woman in the front row who was wearing a “Kansas Tour 97” t-shirt and her sassiest mom jeans. She spent most of the show standing up and pointing at us. The rest of the crowd. You know, like, “GET UP, Y’ALL! Feel the music!” I would assume she was proficient in both air guitar and turning an apple into a bong, but tonight she was just happy to enjoy the musical memories of her youth. I was waiting for her to shout out “CLASS OF 79!!!!!”

There was also that guy. You generally know him from his annoying position in front of you at every sporting event you have ever attended ever. That guy stands up even though he is in the front. He gets in your way. Then he turns to you and waves his arms upward, telling YOU to STAND UP! Which you inevitably have to do because that guy is a genuine jackass and you simply can’t see the game with his ass riding in your face. Well, replace “game” with “Kansas concert” and there you go. Because he apparently thought were too stupid to stand at the encore or “wooooo hooooo” when the “Dust in the Wind” guitar solo began.

The opening band was also a treat. My guess is that they won a contest. My guess is also that the contest was held the night before at the riverfront Oktoberfest right there in St. Charles, Illinois. They blew (however, I do appreciate a band that sings words that I can actually understand. But any respect I had was swept away when they begged us all to follow them on MySpace. I mean seriously, even I know MySpace blows). Part of me does not want to promote them, but dude:

THIS is one of their promo pics. They didn’t even bother to ask the guy playing video games in the background to MOVE before they snapped this prime shot. I mean… I can’t even bring myself to name them, lest you travel to their MySpace page and hear their music and never be able to wash it from your brain. Still, one of them was kind enough to flick his guitar pick to one of the screaming ladies clad in a denim tuxedo near the front. So they loves the ladies, at least.

I wonder if Kansas was like, dudes, we are freaking famous. For real. We’re like, 35 freaking LEGENDARY years, and we’ve still got it. What the hell are we doing in St. Charles, Illinois?

Well, Kansas, I, for one KNOW that you are better than that. But thanks for coming anyway. Because we had a bitchin’ time. And you better believe we’ll catch you the next time you are in the greater Chicago metropolitan and/or northwest Indiana area.

And in case you were wondering, yes, Hank and George do know your songs. So lay your weary heads to rest — don’t you cry no more.